Sleep is for the Weak
by Ink Rabbit
Summary: Once upon a time, the Misfits had a fourth friend. Mole, they called him. He knew San Paro like he knew the back of his hand. Until one day he found a tunnel he had never seen before. Curious, he travels inside, getting himself lost and stuck. Now, it's up to the remaining three Misfits to find him. The question is: are they too late to save their beloved friend?


**A/N: I need to get my mind off of things. Here we go!**

**Sleep is for the Weak**

**~Prologue~**

_**Entry #1**_

_**Date: October 31****st****, 2013**_

_**Hello. My name is Luck Sul, though I go by 'Mole'. I'm 24 years old, and live in San Paro. My friends – or family, as I have accepted – consist of only three; Crow, Mink, and Rabbit. Crow is our strong, insane pistol man. We can rely on him to get us out of situations, though he's so stubborn... and a bit scary. Mink is our explosive boy. He deals with grenades and such. He's great for getting those bastards who hide on rooftops. And Rabbit? Well, she's the hacker wielding a machine gun. 'Machine Gun Rabbit' we say. It still brings a smile to my face.**_

_**Today, though, I'm taking a different route around Abington Towers. A new tunnel, actually. I stumbled across it last month, and only now have the guts to go in. Maybe it's those damned voices in this asylum, or maybe it's because this is the only place I don't know. Either way, I'm going in. I got my flashlight, batteries, blank paper for a map, pencils, sharpener, and journal. I'd say I'm pretty good to go! A few snacks hidden away in my pockets, and my goggles are clean so I can see clearly!**_

_**I guess I'm just writing these entries to keep my mind clear. You stay in the asylum too long, and the silence gets to you. You start hearing screams of children, the old patients laughed or crying, and the occasional whispers of the ones who completely lost their minds and had to be "corrected", as Rabbit likes to say. As long as I keep my mind empty, and focused on this tunnel, I should be fine. I expect the usual; dust, rats, empty alcohol bottles, and maybe even a few bones. Nothing I haven't seen before, to be honest. **_

_**I'll keep writing regularly. Just in case I do get caught down here, and get my head blown off... which reminds me, I need to reload my rifle. Can't go down there without any type of protection, right? Haha. Well, see ya.**_

_**~Mole**_

Once upon a time, the Misfits had a fourth friend. Mole, they called him. He knew San Paro like he knew the back of his hand. Hiding spots, shortcuts, perfect places to tag, you name it, he knew how to get there. He was perfect when it came to missions, too. Yeah, he took many hits, but it was hard to keep him down. And with a smile on his face, he would aim his rifle at some unforeseen enforcer ready to gun down his friends, and pull the trigger.

Now, Mole was a nice fellow. Helped any citizen in need. Many of them asked why he chose to hang around the three criminals. Everyone called them cannibals, psychos, whatever came to their mind, really. But, he would just smile at them, and reply with: "They're my family. And I love them like so. I'll never leave them."

Family. That's what they were, really. It wasn't just his opinion, oh no. They called each other 'brother' and 'sister'. They didn't live in the same apartment, but damn, were they close enough, often sleeping together in one or the other apartment, cuddling together in the small bed the Misfit had, holding each other so close because they were scared they would fall off. Oh, how Mole loved those nights.

Most of the time, though, said Misfit would break away from the others to go explore. They always whined and complained, though they let him leave, saying: "Goodbye!" "Be safe!" "If you see an enforcer, shoot 'em for me!" He would just smile and wave his hand, getting into his car and driving off. He spent most of his time at Abington Towers, roaming around the old asylum. He could probably be blindfolded and get around just fine. Though, one day, he noticed something off. A hidden passageway. With a few minutes of inspections, he realized it was an old tunnel. A way for patients to get around without being caught, he presumed, so he left it alone. Only the Lord knew what was down there. To be honest, it did perk his interest. He knew every single inch of this place. So why hadn't he seen that before?

On Halloween, 2013, Mole finally put aside his silly fears, and ventured inside. Maybe it was how the unanswered questions kept eating away at his soul, begging to be answered of what dwelled in the tunnel, or maybe the voices finally got to him. Whatever the case was, he had had enough. So, after preparing himself, he went in.

Once upon a time, the Misfits had a fourth friend. Mole, they called him. He knew San Paro like he knew the back of his hand. Hiding spots, shortcuts, perfect places to tag, you name it, he knew how to get there. He was perfect when it came to missions, too. Yeah, he took many hits, but it was hard to keep him down. And with a smile on his face, he would aim his rifle at some unforeseen enforcer ready to gun down his friends, and pull the trigger.

On October 31st, 2013, Mole went back to Abington Towers. He went inside the untouched tunnel, unable to stay away any longer. He was never seen again, nor was his body ever found. The gangs searched for weeks, though they could never find the foot-soldier. On November 6th, 2013, the G-Kings, the gang he belonged to, announced him dead. Arlon was the one to tell the rest the bad news, though they left it at that, and continued on with their lives. The other Misfits, however, refused to believe that their friend had disappeared without a trace. They went back to Abington Towers, going inside every open cell, and every inch of land they could cover. Their search lasted for two months. Over a million tears were spilled for their lost friend. They mourned for so long. As they searched, they would desperately call out his name, begging for him to answer; begging for him to turn up. They would continuously put up their tag, praying to the almighty Gods that he would see it and return to them. No such luck, to their dismay. And on New Years, they stopped searching, telling themselves they had to move on with their life.

The Misfits are now a group of three, promising to stay that way, never wanting to replace their fallen brother. But, what they don't know, was that Mole could always hear their voices calling out for him. And many times did he cry out, pleading for them to come to his aid. He cried many nights, praying to God that he would find a way out and rejoice with his family. His wishes were ignored. God had turned his back on him, thus trapping him in the tunnel. He accepted his fate, though it didn't stop his hate from burning inside him. He blamed the Misfits; blamed them for never wanting to travel with him. He hated how they were too blind to find the tunnel. He hated how careless they were when it came to looking. They always overlooked things. And he couldn't stand that. So now, here he was, trapped in the tunnel, still looking for a way out. Oh, how he promised to leave and get revenge on the three who were blind.


End file.
